


Distraction

by WolffyLuna



Series: Ferdinand von Aegir Rarepair Prompt Fics [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Hair Braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/pseuds/WolffyLuna
Summary: Petra finds Ferdinand's hair very distracting.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Petra Macneary
Series: Ferdinand von Aegir Rarepair Prompt Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594915
Kudos: 28





	Distraction

Ferdinand’s hair was distracting.

Petra would not admit to staring at it—he was a friend and colleague, and staring was rude—but she did watch him out of the corner of her eye. Hunters of Brigid were taught how to watch prey without looking straight at them, so they did not spot the hunter, but the technique worked well in other situations.

His hair was pretty, there was no question about that—but when his hair was just _pretty_ , she did not find it half so distracting.

But then he started growing it out.

That only added to its beauty, but even then she would not have found it too distracting if he was not having so much trouble with it.

He seemed to have no clue how long hair worked. His hair was still clean, and the lack of tangles meant he was obviously brushing it. But he didn’t seem to know how to work with it as a physical object. He spent a month with it falling in his face all the time before he discovered ribbons.

That was two months ago, and he still had trouble with the ribbons. The only way he could use them was to tie his hair back in a ponytail, but it often took him three tries to get all his hair in a ponytail, or tie his hair back evenly without it being lopsided. And he kept tying the ribbon too loose, so he was constantly having re-tie his hair.

And because he was… embarrassed? Thought it was unbecoming of a noble to be having trouble with his own hair? He kept trying to fix his hair secretly.

Which made it even more distracting, as Petra kept finding him hiding (with even more difficulty than fixing his own hair) in strange places, losing a fight with his own coppery locks.

Now, he stood behind a stack of hay in the stables. He did not notice he was too tall, and was not actually hidden.

Petra kept at her tasks of feeding the horses and leading them out to their yards, but she kept seeing orange flashes out of the corner of her eye as Ferdinand repeatedly lost skirmishes with his own hair.

The last horse was led into the last yard, and she paused. She could help him. Even if any fix she provided would only be temporary ( _knock a man’s bow, and he’ll eat once, teach him to shoot, and he will not ever go hungry_ ), but it might lead to a temporary reprieve to this terrible distraction. …except for the fact that to help, she’d have to touch his hair. There was a chance that his hair would feel like nothing, and she could teach him without having to give it much thought. Or maybe it would be as clean and silky as it looked—or Ferdinand had as much trouble caring for his hair as he did tying it back, and then she would have to teach him how to wash it, and that would be… more distraction.

She walked over to the hay bales. She was not aiming for any particular stealth, but he still did not seem to notice.

He had half his hair tied in a too loose ribbon, and was trying to stuff the rest of his hair through the loop. He was not having much success.

“Ferdinand, are you alright?”

He turned around, slightly startled, and still holding his hair. “Ah, Petra. I am fairly alright.”

The state of his hair put the lie to that statement. “Would you be liking assistance?”

He let go of his hair, ribbon looped around his fingers, and smiled sheepishly. “If it would not trouble you--?”

“Sit down,” she said, pointing at a hale bale.

She climbed up the rest of the bales, to sit behind him and slightly above him.

His hair was a bit past shoulder length now. A little short for a braid, but still possible. And then, when he had it in a good braid, he could keep it in for a few days, and limit the amount he fought his hair. Which would limit her distraction! It was as sound a strategy as any.

“I will teach you how to do a braid.”

“They always looked a bit—complex,” he said.

“Some are, but not all.” She picked up his hair—and it was as silky as it looked. Not fine, each strand had some volume. But it was all so soft in her fingers, like carded fleece shot through with real silk. He had worked out how to wash it well, and this close she could smell the jasmine scent of the soap he used. His hair was also blessedly tangle free despite his battle with it, and she could not quite understand it.

\--She took a deep breath (taking in more of the jasmine in, accidentally) to steel herself against the distraction. “First, you put your hair into three parts,” she said, sectioning his hair. “And then you go like this: over, under—” She demonstrated as she went, going slowly, both so he could feel what she was doing, and so she did not accidentally tug to hard and hurt his scalp. She kept going, all the way down to the end of the braid, repeating the refrain of ‘over, under, over, under’, before taking the ribbon out of his hands.

He seemed a little surprised. “It is that fast?”

She undid the knot already in the ribbon, and then retied the loop, nice and tight, at the end of the braid. “And it will stay all day. Maybe more, if you are being careful.”

He stood up. “Thank you very much for your assistance.” His face was bright red.

She didn’t comment on it. Her cheeks felt hot, too. “I was glad to be helping.”

* * *

For the next six months, he kept his hair braided. The first braids he made were sloppy, with uneven sections or pulled to one side, but after a short while, they were neat. He did not take his braid explorations further than a simple three strand one, but that was most likely for the best. It prevented further distraction, with no elaborate braids, or the constant fiddling he’d do in his first few attempts at elaborate braids.

And then, one day, the braids went away.

He kept his hair loose. Didn’t make any attempt to keep it out of his face—unless he was using the secret-est pins. He just went about his daily business, shoulder-blade length hair down, as if it was not anything notable.

It was even more distracting.


End file.
